


a king in my eyes

by saverockandbeebo



Category: Bandom, I Don't Know How But They Found Me (Band), Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Friendship/Love, High School, Homecoming, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Tags Are Hard, either one idk, supportive bren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 15:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15998300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saverockandbeebo/pseuds/saverockandbeebo
Summary: In which Dallon gets nominated for homecoming court and Brendon has something to do with it.





	a king in my eyes

**Author's Note:**

> heyo i am tired af!!!!!! i wrote this at 3 AM and had to wake up 5 hours later and this is the least amount of sleep i've had in months!!  
> hurricane florence frikin curved me and i am HUrT

"Are you serious?"

The teachers in front of him nodded again. It was Ms. McNelli and Mr. Górski, to be specific. He'd seen them in the halls a few times here and there, but he'd never taken either of their classes. (and probably never would, considering Górski taught AP Chemistry... He shuddered involuntarily at the thought of  _willingly_  subjecting himself to even more acids and bases.) "Yes, Dallon. I'll say it again: you can't vote for homecoming court if you've been nominated yourself."

"But I...  _when_?"

Ms. McNelli was clearly irritated with him. "Last week. The same time everyone else was nominated." Dallon could almost hear her ask him if he had been living underneath a rock. 

"I-"

Mr. Górski smiled at him and interrupted him. "Well, congratulations anyways, Mr. Weekes. Go ahead back to the lunchroom, okay kid? Go.. promote your campaign!" The smile on his face looked a bit forced, but Dallon couldn't blame him for trying. He thanked him and turned away. 

As he left the table, he felt... lost. Who in the world would ever nominate him for a homecoming court?  _Him_ , Dallon Weekes, a close-to-nobody in this school? It was beyond his comprehension, but he thanked those who congratulated him anyways with a smile resembling that of Mr. Górski's. 

Walking back into the cafeteria, Dallon suddenly discovered a strange, newfound popularity of sorts. A couple people offered him a high-five, several girls winked at him, and someone even patted him on the back. It was weird, to say the least. He only really had a few friends whom he rarely saw in the hallways, so he wasn't used to all this attention in the slightest.

Speaking of friends, Dallon noticed a familiar beaming smile coming his way. "Dallon, my man!" Brendon shouted from down the hallway. He pulled Dallon into a tight hug.  "Congrats, dude!"

"Thanks," Dallon muttered, "but I have absolutely  _no idea_  how that happened."

Brendon shrugged. "You never know. It's senior year, man. Anything can happen. It's like that time Hayley got nominated in freshman year."

"Right, after she'd been here for about a week," he chuckled. "She had a god complex for about a month."

"Exactly. Good times."

" _Simpler_  times." 

The pair sat down at a lunch table together. Brendon continued telling some story about what Pete had done during second bell. Dallon didn't catch exactly what it was; it was probably something stupid. 

A couple walked up to their table. A guy, some football player whose name Dallon didn't know, patted him on the back like they had been best bros for years. "Alright, Dallon!" he cheered, "Nice work scoring that nomination!"

"Thanks," Dallon said, shooting Brendon a what-the-hell-is-happening kind of look. 

"No problem, dude!" Dallon had never talked to this guy before in his life, yet somehow he had found the will within himself to call him his "dude." The football player points at Brendon next. "Bren, nice campaign, bro! Really did 'em well!"

_Campaign?_

The girl attached to the guy's - excuse him, his  _bro's_  - arm chimed in. "Yeah, amazing effort on your part!" 

The guy excuses the both of them and leaves. Dallon took this opportunity to turn and give Brendon the dirtiest look he could muster. If looks could truly kill, Brendon would be dead where he sat. "Excuse me, but  _campaign_?" Dallon shot.

"Yeah, it's on Instagram."

"I don't have an Instagram, Brendon."

"Snapchat?"

"No."

"Twitter?"

" _No._ "

"Not even Facebook?"

"You know how my parents are about that stuff." He could practically hear them now:  _Dallon, that stuff's bad for you. Wait until you get to college. It's not_ that  _important_.

Brendon doesn't respond; instead, he pulls out his phone and opens his own Instagram. He turns it towards him to reveal a post of a layout of several photos of Dallon with the words "VOTE DALLON WEEKES 4 HOCO COURT" plastered over them in a screaming red. 

Dallon raised an eyebrow. Where the hell did he even get these pictures from? "Most of the pics are candids, by the way," Brendon mentions, as if he was reading Dallon's thoughts. "Just thought I'd let you know." His jaw dropped. They weren't just any random pictures either; they were actually really good. It was hard to admit, but Dallon actually looked kind of  _attractive_  in them. 

"You... did this for me?" he finally managed to ask.

Brendon nodded. It was evident that he was nervous. "Surprise?"

Dallon smiled warmly. "Surprise indeed."

When Dallon Weekes won the title of homecoming king the next week, no one was surprised. 

And when he shared a dance with his informal campaign manager, no one was surprised by that either.

 


End file.
